Secrets and Truths
by TrainxEve-Fan12
Summary: After Doofensmirtz's takeover, Phineas is caught between keeping his loved ones alive and working for the man who may have killed his brother, or resisting and risking their lives. Candace is hiding something and Isabella is cracking. Carpe Diem, right?
1. Phineas

**A/N: Woohoo for long term-stories! I haven't done one in a while. I miss writing them.**

**Anyway. I'll not explain the plot, as it should explain itself, but suffice to say this was inspired by Across the Second Dimension, and is AU (or AD, haha) in the sense that it doesn't take place in any known dimension, although it's close to the second one.**

**The first three chapters will be short snippets of Phineas's, Candace's, and Isabella's lives to just let you get a feel for them, as they're the main characters. The first is Phineas (here), the second is Candace and the third will be Isabella. These chapters are a bit short – hopefully from thwn on they'll be a bit longer. From then on it'll basically be just a normal story.**

**Hm…what else? I'll also be using a bunch of OCs, as the Resistance is pretty big in this one, but only two really get any notice; Ames and Ethan.**

**Anyway, I guess that's it. ONTO THE STORY! /woosh**

Phineas glanced at the digital clock beside his bed. 9:27 PM. Normally she'd be home by 9. He could feel his hands begin to shake with fear, clutching the book hard, imagining all the things he never told her, all the things he wants to, and he was incapacitated with fear until -

"Phineas, I'm home!" He heard Candace shout as she slammed the door to the house shut behind her. He let out a shaky breath he'd forgotten he was holding. As he heard her come up the stairs, he returned to his book, calming his shaking and managing to look bored and disinterested as she stuck her head in his room. It was a difficult feat.

"Phineas, I'm back from Stacey's."

"Hey," Phineas greeted from on top of his bed, not looking up at her from his book.

"Have you eaten today?" she asked him. She sounded like she was smiling, and it sounded forced. But he wouldn't look up from his book to check.

Once upon a time she wouldn't have had to worry about feeding him – mom would have taken care of it or he would have fended for himself. Then again, once upon a time she wouldn't have been at Stacey's at all, too busy trying to bust his brother and him. Now…well, now she was at Stacey's almost always, sneaking over there when she wasn't at work, trying not to be seen by the norm-bots.

"No."

She sighed. "Well, dad's not gonna be home for a few days and mom is…" She trailed off. Who knew where mom was? "Anyway." It was awkward and he could tell Candace was guilty but, for the first time in a while, he didn't want to forgive her. As far as he knew, she was just hanging out at Stacey's to avoid the same suffocating depression the entire home was surrounded with, leaving him alone to bask in it.

"I'm okay."

"Come on, Phineas, you gotta eat."

Phineas sighed and offered, "Soup?"

"Geez. Way to pick something that'll fill you up," Candace said, playfully sarcastic. She sighed softly again when she was once again unable to coax his head to look up from his book at her. "Well, I'll go get started on the soup." She was about to close the door, before she opened it again and added, "And Phineas, you can't stay locked in here all day, ya know. I saw Isabella at…on the way back from Stacey's and she asked why you never come over to hang out anymore. When you do go out I have to practically drag you and then you sulk the whole time, and when I don't have to drag you just disappear."

Phineas didn't reply. He cringed slightly at the mention of Isabella's name, but Candace didn't notice.

"Look, I know it's hard. But it's been three years since Ferb and Perry…disappeared, four years since Doofensmirtz took over…and you've gotta move on and make the best of it instead of ignoring your friends," – he cringed again – "ignoring me," – and again—"and just giving up on life in general!"

Phineas' hands clenched the book so tightly his knuckles were turning white. He could tell she was going to yell at him again, but she must have noticed he was shaking and her words stopped.

"Sorry."

"Candace…"

"I'm sorry I yelled at you, Phineas, but I mean what I said. You can't wallow in self-pity forever, and the brother I knew would never allow himself too, either."

Before he could reply she snuck out, shutting the door behind her. He listened to her walking down the hall and down the stairs, and then groaned audibly to himself. "She doesn't get it…" he grumbled, running his fingers through his medium-long, spiky mess of red hair. Then again, it wasn't her fault she didn't get it – he didn't tell her anything. He didn't tell her that he was currently doing his damndest to keep her alive. He set the book down, rolling over to look out the window at Isabella's house. He sighed, thinking about what Candace had told him. So she missed him. He missed all of his friends, especially her, but all of them. But…the way things were now…just talking to someone else was dangerous for him, for them. Speaking to Candace the minimal amount he did was a burden he despised. Not that he didn't love his sister and really want to talk to her, to hug her, to show how much he cared for her, but he couldn't. Acting close to anyone…it would get those important people snatched from his life.

Just like Ferb.

Phineas gave another groan, this time a bit closer to a growl at the thought of his name. Ferb had disappeared only a few months after Doofensmirtz took over, Perry disappearing with him. Ferb and Perry had been gone for so long…he didn't let himself believe either to be dead, because then he'd go stark raving mad, but even so…he couldn't handle someone else leaving his life. Couldn't handle another friend being snatched from him because of that awful Doofensmirtz.

So he'd have to play it cool. So far, Doofensmirtz didn't seem to realize that he and Isabella were close…heck, that he was close to anyone. It was solely Candace he was threatening, and he'd like to keep that number small. It was bad enough working for him to keep her alive, but having more lives hanging over his head…the thought was unbearable.

He rolled out of bed and walked to his desk. With a pull of a string the small lamp on the desk lit up to life, bathing the corner of his room in a dull, dirty light. He pushed several books aside, finding a small folder. He opened it and rifled through the blueprints inside, finding the one he needed and pulling it out. Setting it on the table, he spread and smoothed it with his hands.

A buzz on his wrist alerted him to another. He sighed, and said, "Hm?"

"How are my new blueprints coming?" The watch replied. Phineas hated that voice. Annoying, first of all, but it also seemed so darn happy. It would have been merely irritating, if it wasn't for the fact that the voice belonged to the man threatening to kill his sister.

Phineas absently drew on the blueprints, adding improvements to the robot's design. "Fine…sir." He absolutely hated calling him that. Not that there was much he could do about it. Still, it made his teeth clench in anger. "I'll have them done by tonight."

"Perfect. I'll send my norm-bot to pick up later. Ta-ta!" he called, a static-like sound announcing that he was done speaking to him, and the line went dead. That was fine with Phineas. He didn't want to talk to Doofensmirtz any more than absolutely necessary.

"Phineas~!" he heard Candace's muffled call from downstairs. "Soup's on!"

"Haha, real funny, sis," he said to himself with a humorless laugh as he finished up the blueprints, folding them and placing them in a small lidless water bottle hanging by his open window, where the norm-bot would know to find them. It always came late at night, where no one was likely to see it. He'd even had an invisible one come, once or twice. "Coming, Candace!" he yelled as he left his room and walked down the stairs.

Outside, the rain pelted against the roof and, across the street, he heard a familiar voice let out a sob.

Just another night.


	2. Candace

Thunder crashed as lightning brightened the streets, providing more dependable light than the too-distantly placed streetlights, and a girl with mid-neck length, bright orange hair ran through the roads to avoid getting rained on and wetter then she already was, without getting killed by one of those damn norm bots for being out of her home for anything other than work. She reached the doorway to her home, flung it open and ran in. She leaned against the door for a brief moment to catch her breath and then called loudly, "Phineas, I'm home!"

She didn't expect him to call back, but just to make sure he heard her she walked up the stairs and stuck her head into his room. "Phineas, I'm back from Stacey's." He didn't as much as look at her. She sighed, biting her lip.

"Hey," he replied simply, and her frown deepened. She knew he was mad at her for leaving all day, and being home late, but would it have killed him to at least spare her a smile? Seriously.

She pushed back the angry feelings. She had to be the mature one – she had to be the adult. After all, she was eighteen, and he was only fourteen. Almost fifteen. When he turned fifteen he'd have to get a job serving that hideous Doofensmirtz…if she had her way, he'd be out of power by then.

She smiled and asked, "Have you eaten today?"

"No," he replied. Still not looking at her. Damn.

"Well, dad's not gonna be home for a few days, and mom is…" she trailed off, sighing. "Anyway." An awkward silence persisted for a bit, and she looked down, guilty. It was a for good cause…she was leaving him alone all day, spending all her time at Stacey's for a good cause…but nonetheless, she felt guilty for leaving Phineas home alone all the time.

Phineas broke the silence, saying, "I'm okay."

"Come on, Phineas, ya gotta eat," she insisted. She stood in the doorway for a long while before Phineas sighed and grumbled, "Soup?"

"Geez, way to pick something that will fill you up," she joked, trying to get him to smile, to look at her, anything. She knew it was hard for him, but it was hard for her, too! Losing Ferb and Perry had been agonizing, horrible. That's why she couldn't let Phineas get involved in what she and the others were doing. She'd lost one brother already. She couldn't lose the other. "I'll…go get started on the soup," she muttered absentmindedly. She was about to leave, but turned back around and said, "And Phineas, you can't stay locked in here all day, ya know. I saw Isabella at…on the way back from Stacey's and she asked why you never come over to hang out anymore. When you do go out I have to practically drag you and then you sulk the whole time, and when I don't have to drag you just disappear." That line of logic didn't make any sense – why would Isabella be out breaking the law by being on the streets? Luckily, Phineas was too distracted to question her quick cover up of when she'd _really _seen Isabella.

She waited for a response and got nothing. It made her just angry enough to continue. Candace was still Candace, after all, and still had a fierce temper.

"Look, I know it's hard. But it's been three years since Ferb and Perry…disappeared, four years since Doofensmirtz took over…and you've gotta move on and make the best of it instead of ignoring your friends, ignoring me, and just giving up on life in general!"

At first she didn't notice that he was shaking and opened her mouth to speak again. Then, her eyes caught his trembling hands, and she visibly flinched back.

"…Sorry," she offered weakly.

"Candace…" Phineas said, and there was warning in his tone. She ignored it.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you, Phineas, but I mean what I said. You can't wallow in self-pity forever, and the brother I knew would never allow himself too, either."

She shut the door before he could reply and sighed as she walked down the stairs. Maybe she was too harsh on him. She needed to control her temper. But she'd had a bad day today – another casualty. At least the poor girl wasn't dead, just a fractured leg bone and a dislocated shoulder that she'd had to reset herself, but Candace had _sent _her on that mission. She groaned. Leading the Resistance wasn't easy, and she was feeling guilty as hell for the girl who was hurt. Amelia was her name, but everybody called her Ames. And although Ames was relatively new and only fifteen years old, she was good and showed natural talent. Candace had been confident she'd be okay. But she wasn't. She was lying in a hospital bed in Stacey's basement (where they held their meetings), covered in bruises and cuts, bleeding.

Jeremy, Stacy, Jenny, and Isabella had done their best to assure she wasn't to blame. Actually, pretty much everybody had tried to cheer her up. Carl, Monogram, Buford, Django, Irving, Baljeet, Suzy, Ethan…everybody. Even Ames, when she was conscious. And she was feeling a hell of a lot better. But better didn't mean perfect. She still felt guilty over it. She prided herself on not sending her men into fights they couldn't win. And yet…

"_Don't give me that! I lost 'cause of a fluke! Don't treat me like some failure that wasn't tough enough to handle it! Geez!" _ Ames had insisted, half-pissed and half-comforting. She chuckled lightly as she started the soup, remembering the girl promising to be back up and in action within a week, at the latest.

She shook her head, banishing the dark-skinned, dark-haired girl from her mind for the moment and focusing on the _other_ person she felt guilty about.

Phineas had every right to be mad at her, given what little he knew. All he knew was that she didn't come home after work, she went to Stacy's. For all she knew, he might believe she just didn't want to be near him. But that was wrong. She just…wanted him to be able to grow up like a normal kid, without all this shit happening. And if she had to sacrifice some time with him, then, well…so be it.

She gave a slight sniff, and then cursed at what she smelled. Burning soup. She quickly turned off the stove moments before it burned. As she poured the soup into a bowl and called to Phineas, she smiled sadly. "Oh well…I'll try my damndest to keep him safe, anyway."

As she heard Phineas coming down the stairs, she glanced out the window. The rain hit it with little _tinks_. Thunder crashed and she heard a loud sob from the house across the street from theirs.

Just another night.


	3. Isabella

**A/N: I don't like this one as much. I feel like a bit too much of emphasis has been put on Ames here, but I wanted to introduce her and get you guys familiar with her. I don't really need to do that with any other characters – we all know what Isabella or Stacy looks like. Anyway, please enjoy!**

Isabella sighed as she glanced out the window at nighttime rains, watching Candace run out the door and into the street towards her own house. The window was close to the ground, coming from the basement, and she could look into a puddle forming by the glass and watch little bugs trying not to drown. It was utterly depressing and, to her, maybe even mildly symbolic, so she stopped looking. Her eyes went back to Stacy, who was wiping sweat from the forehead of Ames as she lay in the makeshift hospital bed, groaning.

"Stacy, can you not baby me? It makes me feel pathetic," Ames groaned in annoyance, turning her head away from the cloth. Stacy laughed, putting the washcloth aside.

"Let me play mom, just this once. My house, my rules. Besides, Candace would be doing it herself if she didn't have a brother to take care of. Just me glad it's me, and not her."

Ames imagined that horror for a brief moment, and then gave a groan. "Oh God."

"Exactly."

"I pity the kid."

Isabella laughed at the two, talking likes siblings. "You sure you don't want me to stay the night and help you take care of her?" Isabella didn't mind, and being alone at her house wasn't any more fun than taking care of an injured girl. Actually…maybe she wouldn't be all alone. Maybe mom had come home on time for once. Maybe…

"Will people _please_ stop treating me like an invalid?" Ames exclaimed, running the fingers of her functioning hand through her short brownish-black hair, and Stacy ignored her.

"Nah. I sent home Ethan and Jenny before, so I'm gonna have to tell you to go home, too. 'Sides…" she gave a glance at Ames. "I don't know how much Amelia would appreciate it."

"She wouldn't appreciate it at all," Ames clarified with an arrogant smirk. "Go home, _Bella_, I'm fine. Gonna be up and at 'em in a week or so, just you wait." Although there wasn't so much as the slightest hint of a Spanish accent in any of her words, she pronounced this one word, Isabella's nickname, "Bey-yah" as opposed to "Bel-lah." "Go get some rest, kid."

Isabella was tempted to take offense at the kid comment, especially seeing as she was only a year younger than Ames _and _had been a member of the Resistance for longer, but brushed it off with a chuckle. She was more than likely just covering for her bruised ego, anyway. Isabella glanced up the stairs to the main floor and at the door in time to see Jeremy and Suzy both give small waves at them before running into the rain, sneaking down the street and getting into their house seconds before norm-bots that would have seen them rounded the corner. All three let out a shaky breath.

They paced their leaving apart to make it less likely that large groups would be captured at once if one failed to make it home. They'd all just stay at Stacey's house, where they had the meetings most every day, except the norm-bots did periodic checks every morning to make sure everyone who should be home, was home. Ames was only staying the night because she'd specifically petitioned Doofensmirtz – oh, how Isabella hated that name, and she growled just thinking it – for an opportunity, saying that Stacy, who worked in printing newspapers filled with nothing but propaganda, was assisting her in cultivating her own talent for reporting. Doofensmirtz had reluctantly agreed, although getting her home the next day without inciting suspicion was going to be…difficult, to say the least. She needed to be near someone who could take care of her until her leg healed, and sending her to a hospital was out of the question. They'd link the injury to one that a masked Resistance member had gotten earlier and have her put in jail, or worse.

But Isabella wasn't thinking about that. It was her turn to head home. She was waiting for the norm bots to turn the corner, waved at her friends, and then she bolted out the door. It was a quick run to her house, down a few blocks. She had to hide in the bushes from some unexpected bots, but other than that she got home without a hitch. She'd been doing it for years. She was good at it.

The girl ran upstairs once she was in, tearing off her secondhand, torn clothes that bore no mark of her dictator and slipping on her Dooferalls, groaning at how uncomfortable the fabric felt on her skin. She hated the outfit. She hated anything relating to Doofensmirtz. She hated how he'd stolen one of her closest friends, Ferb. Not that she knew for sure that he'd killed Ferb. But he'd disappeared just after the insane pharmacist had taken over. But most importantly, she hated him for taking Phineas from her. Thanks to him, Phineas was locked in his room, ignoring the world. Ignoring her. Her feelings for the triangle-headed boy hadn't decreased in the least over the three years since the takeover. And a part of her really was mad at Candace, of all things. She respected Candace's leadership and kindness, and even considered her a friend. But if only she'd let Phineas join the Resistance…they could be together. Hang out, be friends again, work together to stop Doofensmirtz. But Candace was too busy playing "concerned big sister" to let that happen.

She walked downstairs and read the note her mother had left on the table. _Have to work overtime again. Love you, Mom._ Isabella sighed with disappointment but not surprise and commenced with digging through the cabinets for some food. She absentmindedly tossed a TV dinner into her microwave and then set down to do her homework at the kitchen table. More propaganda shit that no one took seriously, but had to do anyway if they didn't want to end up in a special "Education Camp." At least she got to stop when she turned fifteen. Of course, there was getting assigned a job to worry about, once she reached that age.

She shook her head and focused.

_When Overlord Doofensmirtz gained control of the Tri-State area, how high was the approximate number of deaths of those who attempted to overthrow him one year later?_

_A. 100000._

_B. 40000._

_C. 9000._

_D. 7000._

Her mind drifted back to her thoughts on Phineas and the Resistance as she absentmindedly circled A.

Of course, there was the counter-argument. Losing Ferb had hurt like hell. The only reason she'd come out of the shell of depression she'd locked herself in was the knowledge that she was doing something worthwhile with the Resistance. If she lost Phineas, too, even that wouldn't save her. She wouldn't be able to handle losing her two best friends on top of all the other stuff that Doofensmirtz had taken from her. Maybe it was _better_ for him not to be in danger, even if it meant she never saw him.

She glanced out her window and looked and Phineas' house. His bedroom light was on. He was probably reading. She saw Candace's shadow fall across the light.

She remembered asking Candace earlier why Phineas never came over, not just for meetings but for fun. Even if you weren't supposed to, most everyone snuck to their friend's house on occasion, it was a game: First one to get caught and killed by a norm-bot loses. And yet Phineas hadn't so much as given her a phone call since Ferb disappeared. Candace had sighed and shrugged, telling her he just wasn't in the mood to be near anyone at all.

Scratch that. She'd lost two friends already – one had disappeared. She knew where the other was, but he was just as unreachable.

Her eyes drug across the houses of everyone she knew, those that she could see, anyway. She thought about losing them and her heart clenched in pain. No. She'd overthrow that bastard before he took anyone else from her. Before anyone else left her.

She circled C on another question as the microwave beeped, tears in her eyes.

Her hands were shaking. She was thinking about losing people again. She needed to stop doing that. She stood and pulled her food from the miniature oven, then gave a start when lightning struck. The food dropped to the ground, and she collapsed to her knees with it, self control broken by the scream of the lightening, letting out a piercing, mournful sob just as thunder roared across the skies.

Just another night.


	4. Skipping School

**A/N: Alrighty then. A month or two later but, hey, it's up! Sorry guys - school happened. It's almost Christmas break, though, so I should be able to get a chapter or two up for that. Anyway, enjoy.**

Candace pulled herself to sit up in the bed a second before the alarm buzzed, her hand slamming down on top of the snooze button a millisecond after it began. She groaned, running her fingers through her now short hair and letting out a moan. These Doofensmirtz-issued beds always made her wake up sore. She leaned back, hands on her hips, until she heard her back _crack_, then rolled her head and stretched, working the kinks out of her bones and muscles. What she wouldn't do for a massage.

She stood up, slipping off her nightgown and walking into the shower. The sound always woke Phineas up, or at least, she _thought _that was why he was always up when she came to get him. The shower, although it couldn't get very hot due to the way it was built, to save water for Doofensmirtz, helped further ease her. When she walked from the shower and dressed, she was almost cheery.

"Phineas," she called as she walked by his door. She opened it and stuck her head in, smiling widely at him. She barely took notice of the fact that he was sketching on his desk, or that he was already dressed. That was pretty much normal morning routine. "Good morning Phineas," she said.

"Morning, Candace." He wasn't nearly as cheery as her, but there was energy to his voice that didn't sound half as faked as it was. He was too tired to be cheery – he rarely slept at night any more, too haunted with nightmares about his brother and Candace and Isabella being hurt because he had screwed up and didn't keep his beloved dictator happy. He was, currently, running on all of three hours of sleep and a cup of coffee. Definitely not his preference. Besides, he didn't get to go to school today; Doofensmirtz had contacted him in the night to tell him he wanted him for some sort of special briefing. He wasn't worried about getting in trouble, but it meant that he wouldn't be able to see his friends, and school was the only time they ever saw each other.

"Come on out and get something to eat, okay? I think we still have some Doofen-Os…" she laughed as he visibly blanched, and nodded. "Okay, I'll go shopping after work today and pick something halfway edible up."

_If I'm not too busy trying to overthrow Doofensmirtz. _She sighed.

"Come on, we've gotta go wait for our rides."

She turned from the door and walked downstairs, gulping down a glass of milk on the way and then running outside to wait for her bus. Phineas followed her outside, standing beside her. He breathed a sigh of relief when her bus came first. She didn't miss the sigh, but neither did she comment on it, and instead she simply pulled herself onto the platform where she stood alongside far, far too many people to be safe. The vehicle lurched and let out a sickening whine, and then it was moving at what felt like 80 miles per hour.

"See ya later!" she called with a wave back towards him, almost falling off in the process. He waved back, but the minute she was gone from his sight he took off, walking towards Doofensmirtz Evil Inc.

* * *

><p>Isabella was not happy. Not happy at all. In fact, she was a little bit pissed off because he should have been her, darn it. Phineas was the only one who made the long, dragging, 9 hours of school bearable. But he'd been missing school lot lately, and it didn't pass her notice for a moment. She'd spent at least three years of her life all but stalking him – she didn't anymore, of course, but that didn't change the fact that she noticed when he wasn't where he was supposed to be. And he hadn't been getting in trouble for it, either! Normally when a kid skipped, the punishment was brutal and public. She'd been subject to more than a few of them.<p>

"Hey, where's Phineas?" she asked in a whisper, leaning over to ask Baljeet. He shrugged, then his eyes widened and he buried his head in his book.

"Miss Garcia-Shapiro? Care to share with the class what was so interesting that you just _had_ to tell Baljeet?"

Isabella's head whipped up and she said, voice sure to hide her sudden fear, "No, Mrs. Bitters." True to her name, the woman grinned darkly.

"Hands on your desk."

"Yes, Mrs. Bitters." Isabella brought her hands onto her desk, palms up, and clenched her teeth. "OW!" she shouted when the riding crop came down, hard, on her hands, leaving a thin cut down the middle of both. The crop came down again across her cuts, and this time she didn't yell, biting her tongue and closing her eyes. She opened them hesitantly to find Mrs. Bitters walking back to the front of the classroom and let out a sigh of relief. Baljeet smiled sympathetically at her, and she tried to smile back. Today was really starting to suck.

She fought the urge to lay her head on her desk and tried to focus her thoughts. She wondered if she should tell Candace about Phineas skipping – again – and decided against it. She knew Candace meant well, but she could be overbearing. Phineas had every right to a break. But Isabella was sick and tired to not knowing anything about what was going on, especially since she worked so hard to earn his and everyone's freedom back – he owed her. _So I'll confront him and ask him myself._ She nodded to herself. Yeah, that's what she'd do.

* * *

><p>"How're you doing, Ames?" Candace asked as soon as she reached the basement after work. Both girls knew the double-meaning behind her words, and Ames answered directly.<p>

"I can't go home, Candace. You know that my parents have been AWOL for ages, and as much as I hate to admit it, I need somebody to take care of me until this damn leg heals." She slammed her fist down on the bed next to her, hating her own weakness.

"She's just gonna have to go undercover, become a criminal." Candace looked up, shocked to see Ethan sitting on a chair in the corner of the room, the Asian boy smiling faintly. "Stacy asked me to keep an eye on her while she's at work."

Candace smiled appreciatively, knowing he must have been skipping work and risking big trouble for this. "But she was last seen here. Doofensmirtz knows that. If she just disappears…" Candace shook her head. "It would implicate Stacy. We can't do that." She looked desperate. "Are you sure we can't just have someone go to your house when possible? Implicating Stacy…"

"Well, duh," Ames said, shrugging. "Here's how we go about this. We fake my death. We burn down my house or something, then we hide me, then life goes on." A crooked grin raised itself to her face. "I won't have to go to work anymore, lucky me."

Ethan didn't reply, merely sank back into the chair, offering neither approval or disagreement. The only person who spoke less was Ferb.

She choked back a curse at the name. Both Ames and Ethan must have noticed her expression, but neither commented on it. "It's simpler just to send you home. You'll keep missing school until your leg heals. We'll stall, saying you're sick. We'll make excused. Your homework will be delivered and you'll _do all of it_." She fixed her with a glare that Ames pointedly ignored and Ethan chuckled at. "When possible somebody'll stay to keep an eye on you." She crossed her arms, waiting for either to offer disagreement. Neither did, and she nodded. They knew to respect her authority, to listen to her. Ames sighed.

"Dammit. I've always wanted to fake somebody's death."

* * *

><p>Phineas pushed the button on the elevator and gulped down a lump in his throat. His stomach lurched as the elevator started moving, pulling him up towards his dictator and into harm's way. He did not want to be here – he'd rather be at school, seeing Isabella and Buford and Baljeet and everyone else, even if he couldn't talk to them much. If Doofensmirtz got even an inkling of how much they meant to him – he stopped thinking about such things when the elevator reached the top floor and the doors opened.<p>

"I'm here, sir," he called softly as he left the elevator. It shut silently behind him. "Sir?" he tried more loudly.

"Come here, my boy!" came the voice of the one, the only Overlord Doofensmirtz. He bit back a groan and approached suspiciously. Usually, when Doofensmirtz got all "my boy" on him, something bad was going to happen very soon. "I've got something very important to show you."

Phineas walked next to him, curiosity winning out over fear. He looked up at him expectantly, taking in his appearance once again. A tall, very bony man, dressed in black, his hair un-combed. A scar stretched from the left corner of his mouth, over his eye (covered with an eye patch, also decorated with a scar) and to his hair line, making his frowns grotesque and his smiles downright horrifying. Phineas forced himself not to look disgusted, keeping his expression carefully deadpan. Doofensmirtz merely motioned out the window, and Phineas glanced suspiciously over. He half expected to see a car crash below, or some other awful misfortune that only Doofensmirtz could find enjoyable. Instead, all looked normal; peaceful even. He looked back at Doofensmirtz, whose eyes seemed unfocused on the view or even on this conversation.

"My domain. My world." He smiled crookedly, a grin that might have been endearing had the wearer not been who it was. "That you helped to create."

If he'd meant to instill a sense of pride in the young boy, he'd failed miserably. Phineas felt guilt wash through him at the helping hand he had provided in creating this crapsack world. His head dropped.

"Did you bring the blueprints?" Doofensmirtz asked curtly, suddenly back to business, turning and walking from the window. Phineas' eyes widened, although he didn't lift his head. He hadn't even thought to bring them; he was so used to letting a Norm-bot pick them up that it hadn't even occurred to him that one hadn't. "Welllllll…?"

"I…um…I-I didn't bring them, I thought that—" he was cut off by a hand whipping against his cheek with far more force than someone like Doofensmirtz should have been able to apply. He fell to the floor, cheek stinging.

"Incompetent," Doofensmirtz muttered under his breath, before turning away from Phineas and yelling at a Norm-bot to retrieve the prints. He glared at Phineas, who pushed himself off the ground, once again marveling that this thin man had enough strength to knock him to the floor with a measly slap. "Anyway, the reason I invited you here today has nothing to do with those. I need to commission something…special." Phineas almost laughed at his wording. Commission? As if he got paid to do this, to serve this abusive master. He bit back his laugh with the sober thought: _my payment is keeping them alive. _

When Doofensmirtz didn't continue, Phineas asked, "Um…special?" He paused, then added a quick, "sir" before he could get slapped again. Doofensmirtz nodded thoughtfully.

"I need you to design something…bigger than our usual projects. While my strength is growing all the time and my territory is constantly expanding well past the Tri-State area, I've discovered several large rebel factions in areas of China and our very own America." He smirked lightly when he spoke that, as though in on a joke Phineas couldn't understand. He had no desire to, either. "Regardless, I need a new robot. Something…bigger. More deadly. Something that is solely designed for battle. I'll trust you to take care of the details." Phineas had no choice but not nod slowly, clearly unhappy. Doofensmirtz either didn't care about his deep frown, or was too incompetent to notice it. His eyes still seemed confused, as though he wasn't paying attention, his mind focused on something else. Phineas knew better than to ask what that something was.

When the Overlord simply continued to stare out the window and not release him, Phineas dared to ask, "Um…sir, may I go?"

His eyes widened as though he'd forgotten he was there, and he made an impatient shooing motion with his right arm. Phineas turned and started towards the elevator quickly, practically scampering, when Doofensmirtz said, "Your good friend…Isabella, is it? She'll be turning fifteen soon, correct?"

Phineas stopped in his tracks before running into the elevator without reply.

* * *

><p>Maybe the bushes weren't the best hiding spot in the world – scratch that, definitely not the best hiding place. The pointed twigs had already scraped her face so much that, if her mother was home, she would scold her for playing outside again. But she had to confront Phineas – what better place than outside his front door?<p>

And sure enough, just twenty minutes after hiding, he rounded the corner to his house. He seemed tired, slumping, and reached for the doorknob.

"Phineas!" she exclaimed as she jumped from the bush. He jumped almost a foot in the air, and she giggled lightly. Once he realized it was only her, he let himself laugh for a brief moment before forcing his face to become expressionless.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, looking panicked and irritated. She wondered if she shouldn't have come; he certainly didn't look like he wanted to see her. He was looking at her impatiently, like a child he couldn't order away but still didn't want to be near it. It was all she could do to keep herself from saying, _"Sorry, I'll go,"_ and running off.

"I wanted to know why you weren't at school today," she said, chin up, voice strong, the same voice she'd used with Mrs. Bitters to hide how completely terrified she'd been. His eyes widened like he hadn't expected her to notice. She rolled her eyes.

"That's – that's none of your business." His words stung but she didn't flinch. "Why do you care, anyway? What does it matter to you?"

"Of course it matters! You're my friend!"

The world stopped in that instant, Phineas' eyes becoming panicked, looking everywhere, up, down, left and right, searching desperately for something. His expression filtered between despair, fear, and irritation, cycling through the three and then restarting the cycle again. He glared at her and growled, "Don't _ever_ say that. Go home, Isabella."

Then he went inside, slamming the door in her face.


	5. Display of Affection

**A/N: I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.**

**I could explain to you why I haven't updated in so long, but I won't. Just know that this story is very much alive and I intend to continue it. Forever. Again, sorry. This is a bit short because it's just focusing on Phineas and Candace, and gosh darnit I just wanted to FINISH it. OTL.**

**Not much happens in this chapter, but I really wanted to define and focus on the relationship between Phineas and Candace, and show a bit of Candace's…er…mental state.**

_"Of course it matters! You're my friend!"_

_The world stopped in that instant, Phineas' eyes becoming panicked, looking everywhere, up, down, left and right, searching desperately for something. His expression filtered between despair, fear, and irritation, cycling through the three and then restarting the cycle again. He glared at her and growled, "Don't ever say that. Go home, Isabella."_

_Then he went inside, slamming the door in her face…_

Phineas leaned against the door, perfectly still and quiet, until he heard a stream of sputtered curses and then stomping feet grow quieter and she stormed off. He slid to the ground, back against the door, and ran his fingers through his hair, yanking harder than necessary to clear both his head and his guilt. He suddenly felt _so tired_ – like one more smidgen of movement would kill him. Exhausted, he let out a breath he hadn't noticed he was holding. Why couldn't anything just be easy? Why did he have to feel…feel so…

He felt guilty.

His behavior had been over-the-top. Unnecessary. She was probably pissed out of her mind at him now, and she had every right to be.

"I am so good at messing things up," he muttered to himself.

"_We can't tell Isabella we're the Beak now! That would put her in danger!"_ He remembered what he'd said to Ferb, back when didn't know a thing about danger, back when he'd been naïve and stupid. It still rang true – telling her why he'd been a jerk would be counterproductive at best. At worst, it would destroy what he'd worked so hard for – separation, the firm comfort that Doofensmirtz knew nothing of his close friendships. Only Candace was in danger, only she would be lost if he messed up. But Isabella didn't know that. As far as she knew, he was just being an ass. Back in the good old days, he might have held Perry til and idea to apologize came to him, or asked Ferb about it. But Ferb and Perry were gone.

Funny how, even though it had been years, the thought still made him feel sick.

But, on the bright side – and one thing that hadn't changed was his ability to always look on the bright side – if Doofensmirtz had been watching that, which he probably had been, it might be enough to convince him he didn't care for her. He'd already screwed up when he'd ran off when he'd asked about her birthday – that was bad. Stupid. But he could get past that – he could convince himself it was alright. When was her birthday, anyway? He realized he couldn't remember the date and cursed himself. He was turning into just as bad a friend as he was pretending to be.

He sighed, starring out the door. Candace wasn't home, but he wished she was here. He could use her comfort, even if he acted as though he didn't care for it. The house was lonely, empty, hollow and dead, a mere shadow of the happy home it had once been. Dad was always gone at work for moths at a time – mom worked too, but she was so emotionally unstable that she spent as much time at the asylum (no visitors allowed, of course) as she did at the hospital. Candace was always working or at Stacy's to escape the depression that hung over the house. And Ferb and Perry were both just…gone. The home had become just a house when the family that had once brought life to it was all gone.

With the greatest reluctance he pushed himself up off the ground and drug himself to the kitchen. He glanced inside the cupboards and was unsurprised to find that Candace hadn't come home with the food she'd said she'd pick up yet. His stomach grumbled and his cheek stung. He flopped down in a kitchen chair, still exhausted. The rational part of his mind pointed out that he should probably get working on that design Doofensmirtz wanted to avoid netting more abuse, but the lazy, procrastinating teenage side of him would much rather just sit and rest for a moment. A little break was important, right? He couldn't continue to push himself this way – he'd go insane. Doofensmirtz expected far, far too much from him. Making a new invention every day with the help of his brother was easy, fun, because there'd been no pressure or fear to exhaust him, merely adrenaline and joy at the thought of creating. Not to mention a brother to help, and they shared wavelengths completely, so he'd been the perfect assistant. Now, on his own and exhausted – shell-shocked, even – by the constant fear, creating came without the joy it had once contained. It was still the closest he ever came to feeling good, sick as it was, but in the same way better did not mean good, closer to happiness was not the same as happiness.

He sank deeper into his seat.

He heard the sound of the door opening and he glanced up, expecting to see a Norm-bot or, in his barely lucid half-daydreaming mind, Isabella, but was instead greeted with a shock or orange hair he knew to be his sister's. Her eyes widened to see him out of his room, but she nonetheless smiled and nodded to the groceries in her hands. "Help me put these away, will ya?"

He nodded slowly, pushing himself out of the chair he was sitting in, taking a bag when she handed it to him and setting to work. He hadn't realized he'd taken her offer and was actually helping her until he was setting a can of soup in the cabinet. He recoiled slightly, wanting to run, every fiber of his being rebelling against this ever-so-slight show of affection. But (he realized belatedly) he was smiling. And it felt so good that he put another can away, and another, and tried not to think about consequences for once in his life.

Candace hummed something under her breath, so quietly that he could barely hear it, and she wouldn't look at him like she was afraid of breaking the spell that had been cast on him to bring him out from his room. He really looked at her for the first time in God knows how long, not just glanced, but looked. He hadn't seen her, really, since Ferb had disappeared, staying hidden in his room and only seeing her when she came to remind him to eat or to say goodnight He noticed bags under her eyes, dark, puffy. When had those gotten there? Her long orange hair she'd once been so proud of had been chopped short for efficiency and was now choppy and messy, like she hadn't had the time or energy to comb in properly. Her fingers were calloused and covered with small cuts and scars from work. A faded red scar stretch from her wrist to her elbow, and she scratched at it absentmindedly on occasion. Her eyes, although seeming happy, were bloodshot and far-away.

He wanted to hit himself. How had he allowed himself to believe that he was the only one suffering? She'd been in as much pain as he had, maybe more, and he'd been selfish enough to believe that she was abandoning him. She'd lost Ferb, too. She'd loved him, too. And then Phineas had locked himself in his room and deprived her of both brothers instead of one. He might as well be gone, just like Ferb.

Her smile was deliriously happy, like this made her day. Seeing him, putting away groceries with him, brought her this level of joy. He felt sick to his stomach. "Candace?"

She looked at him, still smiling, although it faded slightly and became more tense. "Yeah?"

"I'm…sorry." Even now his mind exclaimed that this was wrong. That this was bad. Doofensmirtz…

_He already knows I love her. He's already holding her over my head. Acting like I give a damn isn't going to hurt anything, _he tried to convince himself.

He refocused on her when she said, smile gone now, "It's alright." They both knew it wasn't. She was scared of triggering his now somewhat quick temper, of him stalking back into his room. She smiled lightly, eyes far-away. "I'm sorry, too. For always being gone. I'll try to be home more." She let out a light chuckle. "If only mom could hear this. Us apologizing. She probably still thinks I hate you, like back when I used to make up those ridiculous stories and try to 'bust' you guys…" She laughed breathily, eyes more clear than they were when they'd started talking, and returned to putting away groceries.

Phineas' eyes had the opposite reaction. They widened, fading a bit as he attempted to make sense of her words. "You…made them…up?"

She chuckled, shaking her head. "Yeah. Like, what was it…a rollercoaster? Mars? Aliens?" She rolled her eyes. "No wonder mom thought I was crazy."

Phineas almost staggered back, practically thinking she was crazy himself. "Candace…all that…all that happened."

She shook her head. "No, it didn't."

"Yes," he insisted. "It did. And you'd always try to tell mom and she'd never believe you because something would always make the inventions disappear."

"The 'Mysterious Force.'" She laughed again, this one sounding less natural.

"Whatever. It all happened." She just shook her head, bending down to tuck some cereal in a cabinet under the counter. He didn't like her stubborn refusal to accept that it all happened. If none of it was real, then what was he to remember Ferb with? Their best times were spent building fantastic, amazing things. Those times couldn't be gone, products of his imagination. And if they were real – which he knew they were – then what did it mean that Candace no longer believed them? Had those years of being called "crazy" and "liar" by mom, however teasingly, gotten to her, causing her to convince herself none of it was real in a desperate vie not to be as mad as mom implied? Was it some weird way of coping? It was unsettling.

She glanced at her watch, sighing. "Hey, Phineas, I've gotta go to Stacy's…sorry," she said slowly, afraid of causing him to return to his aloof self. He shook his head.

"Sure. Fine."

"I can stay, if you want…I don't mind. She'll understand."

"It's fine. You should go." He put one last can away and forced a smile onto his face, not wanting to worry her more now that he was seriously concerned about her mental state.

She smiled back so sincerely that his heart broke. He felt like the older brother, trying to protect her, not the younger one. As though sensing this, she said sternly, "Be sure to eat something while I'm gone. I can't have to starving." He nodded, making a show of grabbing a random cereal box and pretending to pour the contents into his mouth. She laughed and then departed, grabbing her coat and waving before darting out the door.

He slumped the moment the door shut and the life was sucked from the home. The smile disappeared, the façade gone. Nothing was easy anymore. Nobody was okay. He realized that now. Nothing else to do and too drained to consider eating, he stumbled up the stairs to his bedroom to begin designing his master's killing machine.


	6. Job Assignment

"_Hi, Ferb. Hi, Phineas. What'cha doin'?" Isabella asked with a smile, peaking in their backyard. She smiled as she saw the boys hard at work, Phineas bent over blueprints, drawing and improving plans, Ferb on top of the skeleton of their newest creation. Baljeet and Buford stood next to her, having met along the way to the brothers' house._

"_Hey guys," Phineas said enthusiastically. "We're building a rollercoaster!"_

_Baljeet's brow furrowed. "Haven't you done that already? Twice?"_

"_Not one that stretches all the way across the galaxy we haven't." Turning to Ferb, he asked, "Were you able to get a hold of Meap? We could use his help." Ferb nodded and Phineas grinned. He turned back to Isabella who blushed and smiled in a manner she hoped was cute. She was either bad at it or Phineas was just as oblivious as ever, because he turned back to his blueprints without so much as responding to her eyelash-batting. She sighed while Buford gave her a pat on the back that might have been comforting with a tad less force._

_The sigh turned to a scream as the sky suddenly darkened above her. What in the world…robots? So many they were blotting out the sun. The boys noticed the same time she did, Ferb unconsciously grabbing a wrench he'd been working with tightly in his palm. _

"_What in the—"_

"_Guys, get inside!" Candace shrieked at them from the doorway, running at them and pulling them towards the door a second before a laser from the one of the robots burned the grass where Phineas had been standing. _

"_Please enter your homes!" said the robot cheerily. Phineas shivered._

_Candace pushed them inside and slammed the door shut, leaning against it. "Guys, stay here while I go get mom and dad – don't try anything, alright?" Her voice was hard and sure, leaving no room for compromise. Phineas, still trembling from his brush with death, nodded. Isabella patted his back carefully, trying to calm him. She watched Candace run on the door and hop on her bike from the window, then looked back at her friends. Baljeet was shivering and clearly somewhat shocked, but his analytical mind was working enough to keep him from being too frightened. Buford just looked eager for a fight. Ferb looked mostly unaffected – Phineas' eyes were wide and shell-shocked, unfocused. _

"_Phineas?" she asked gently. _

"_What's going on?" he asked in a whisper. _

"_I'm sure everything will be fine…" she said comfortingly. She grabbed the wall phone and dialed a number. "Gretchen? Oh, good, you're alright…the others…yeah; I know…what's that mean…you can't be serious…who the heck is Doofensmirtz…?"_

_As she babbled on, Ferb glanced out the sliding glass door and saw a cheery, smiling, almost human-looking robot. In that same irritatingly happy voice as before, it said through the glass, "Hello citizens of the Tri-State area! Today you have all been chosen to serve under the new Overlord Doofensmirtz!" The robot's 'face' was replaced by a screen, upon with a black-clad, scar-faced and big-nosed man appeared. He grinned triumphantly. _

"_Hello, my subjects! Any rights you previously held are henceforth abolished, and you shall now follow the laws of DOOFENSMIRTZ!" He cackled madly. Ferb shivered. _

"_Yeah? Bring it on, pansy!" Buford shouted at the machine, tossing a heavy metal vase at the thing. It shattered the glass and then the screen on the robot, which careened wildly out of control for a moment, before exploding._

"_Not very durable, are they?" Baljeet observed. Phineas nodded slowly, forcing himself not to dwell on his near-death. It wasn't the first time it had happened, after all. _

"_The problem is that there's lots of them," Isabella said, not setting down the phone. "According to Gretchen, the police force has been almost completely taken down. Some animals in fedoras…" she stopped, as though that was too crazy to believe. "Regardless, there's enough that even if they're not durable, they're still dangerous."_

"_And they shoot lasers," Phineas added dryly._

"_That too."_

_Candace came running back in, Lawrence and Linda following. Lawrence's shirt was burned at the hip and his skin seemed worse for the wear underneath the burn, but otherwise normal, while some of Linda's hair seemed to have been burned off and she favored her left leg, limping. "Everything okay?" Candace asked, taking in the broken window._

"_No," they all answered at once. _

"_Didn't think so," she said. _

_Lawrence helped Linda to sit on the couch, rubbing his chin. "Well, boys, I've had worse days, but this has got to come somewhere at the top of the list."_

"_What are we going to do?" Phineas asked. Lawrence looked thoughtful for a minute before finally admitting,_

"_I don't know, kids. I just don't know."_

* * *

><p>Buford had learned a long time ago not to mess with women when they're angry. It rarely ended well when men tried. The first time he'd realized as much had been when he'd flirted with Candace while she was still in mourning over Ferb. It had been an attempt to lighten the mood and cheer her up, honestly, and he didn't even say it seriously because everyone who wasn't an idiot knew that she loved Jeremy, but she'd still screamed at him until he felt like his skin was going to burn away. She'd apologized later, however reluctantly, but he'd learned his lesson: when women are pissed off, it's best to just let them stew.<p>

So when Isabella stomped downstairs to Stacy's house, glaring at nothing in particular, teeth clenched and hands fisted, he knew better than to try to ask why.

Unfortunately, Baljeet lacked such knowledge. "What's wrong, Isabella?"

"_NOTHING!_" she shouted at him. He cringed back, nearly falling over. Poor nerd.

"Cool your jets, _Bella_. Seriously," Ames mumbled. Before Isabella could shout, she added, "And you wouldn't scream at an injured girl, would you?"

Buford almost laughed when Isabella slumped in a chair, glowering at Ames but not yelling at her. Ames cracked a smile.

"I feel like I should, but I'm not gonna ask," Candace said, standing up from the chair she'd been sitting in. Isabella fixed her with a glare before nodding, grudgingly appreciative that she'd not asked her about her personal life, although she still wanted to yell at her for something. Candace either couldn't tell or didn't care, so she spoke. "Is everybody here?"

"Yeah," Jeremy responded the same time Suzy said, "Duh." Candace let out a short chuckle.

"Alright, team. Here's what's gotta happen. Ames is still outta commission until her leg heals a bit – at least two weeks." Ames mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "one." "Somebody's gonna have to keep an eye on her most days. So we'll take turns and try to keep it random that nobody notices only our little group is skipping. Ethan has offered to do most of it, but he obviously can't miss constantly without repercussions, so we're gonna have to work out a schedule or at least get an idea for the next few days." She nodded as Addison and Jenny volunteered. "Alright, next order of business. Our next mission is on Tuesday, with me, Isabella, Jeremy, Django…oh, and Buford for muscle. The rest of you guys are expected to keep watch through Baljeet's computers and camera – good job setting those up by the way – or keep watch directly by the building and report to us any unusual stuff that happens. We need you guys to make sure we don't end up getting killed or caught. Got it?" Buford wanted to point out that such huge precautions probably weren't necessary for such a routine mission – it was just getting data, after all – but knew she was probably just overcompensating to make sure what happened to Ames didn't happen again. He did chuckle lightly at being called "the muscle," but it wasn't a term that offended him. Actually, he liked it. Resisting authority – violently – was what he did best, after all. "Alright, if there are no questions, I'd like to go over the plan once more…"

"It's…it's my birthday in three days," Isabella offered lamely, interrupting Candace's informative rant prematurely. They looked at her expectantly, as though failing to understand why this was a big deal, although they certainly knew, right? They must have. Buford got it, at least, and tried to smile comfortingly.

"Got your assignment letter?" He asked. He'd gotten his a few weeks ago, in a meatpacking plant not far from town. Not his dream job but, hey, not awful. "What's your new job?"

"I kind of…haven't opened the letter yet." She sighed, looking around at her friends. They stared back with blank faces. The anger she'd possessed when she'd come in seemed to have evaporated, being replaced with mere tiredness. "That's why I was late. I was picking it up." She wasn't a bad liar, but they could all see that this was a half-truth at best. None of them commented on it. "I wanted to do it with you guys. I'm kinda scared. What if it's one that I won't get to come home for months, like my mom's job?"

Jeremy smiled, trying to be cheerful. "Relax. Only the people who were adults when we got taken over ended up with those jobs – they're all filled up. They don't need us to do those sorts of jobs."

"People die all the time. What if somebody died and they need somebody else to do it?"

"Jeremy's right. It's extremely unlikely. And not opening the letter isn't going to make it any better." Candace this time, trying to play mom. Isabella groaned quietly, and Buford rather sympathized. Why did Candace do that? It was _annoying_. "Just open it, and we'll see, okay?"

Isabella sighed but didn't move. Buford snatched the envelope from her fingers, sick of waiting and not seeing what the big deal was, anyway. She let out an offended, "What the hell, Buford?" and tried to snatch it back, but he ripped it open before she could manage. "Buford, you jack ass!"

He, still twisting to keep from letting her grab it, read over it as quickly as he could manage, which wasn't all that fast. But it was a short letter, only a few sentences, and he finished in good time. His eyes widened and he stopped twisting, freezing still. "Whoa."

"What, what?" Isabella demanded, having given up on getting the letter from him. Suddenly Ethan was next to Buford, or maybe he'd been standing there the whole time – he was good at not getting himself noticed. It really creeped Buford out a little, too be honest. The normally smug smirk on his face was quickly replaced as he read over the letter. "Why is everybody but me getting to read _my_ letter?" Isabella demanded.

"'Dear Isabella Garcia-Shapiro, we are pleased to inform you that your new occupation, chosen at random, is that of a seamstress in Chicago.'" Ethan read aloud.

"WHAT?" she shrieked. "Chicago is almost ten hours away!" Not to mention, Buford thought, no doubt she'd heard the horror stories everyone heard about the businesses in Chicago – high crime rates, abuse of all sorts from those that oversaw the workers…he didn't envy her. No places were great for work, but big cities tended to be the worst.

"'Due to the fact that this occupation is more than five hours from your home town, you will remain in Chicago in shared housing with other employees. You will be allowed to return home every three months for two days. Your job begins in four days.'" He paused, gulping, as though unable to comprehend what he'd read. "' Your Overlord, Doofensmirtz.'" Ethan looked at Isabella helplessly as he finished reading, brow furrowed. His eyes flicked mechanically to Ames, and then Candace.

Candace's eyes were wide. She let out a growl, standing up in a flurry of anger and almost knocking Jeremy out of his seat in the process. When she spoke, the words were a throaty snarl. "What the hell? Isabella, you're one of our best – we can't lose you, soldier."

"You think I want to go?" Isabella shot back, finally getting her chance to yell at someone. "But at this rate, I can't…"

Buford groaned loudly, cutting her off, and made another ill-fated attempt at humor. "Let's just overthrow the pansy in three days? Simple as pie." Nobody bothered with a reply. He hadn't expected one.

"…What are we going to do?" Suzy was the one to break the long silence. The girl, now eight but intelligent as a twelve year old, looked up at them with such simple expectation that Buford's stone heart (as he liked to tell people) actually got a little soft.

Candace growled again, rubbing her temples to focus and wordlessly telling everyone to shut up. Jeremy wrapped an arm around her shoulders gently, pulling her down to sit. She was trembling with barely controlled energy. She sighed. "We can't have you miss work; you'll get beaten, or worse. But we can't have you…gone. We need you to help us bust Doofensmirtz – you're one of our best."

As this conversation continued, a wicked smirk curled its way onto Ames' lips. She glanced at Ethan, who, in an instant sort of communication that the two long-time friends shared, understood her plan instantly. He mirrored her smirk.

"Hey guys," she offered. "I have an idea."


	7. Repeat

"Wake up, Phineas!"

Phineas jolted awake, rolling out of bed onto his feet in an automatic defensive movement. But it was only Candace, looking into his room and smiling widely, clearly amused by his response. He smiled back, just a little, at the expression he knew wouldn't have existed before last night's curious bonding session. "Sorry, I wanted to wake you up earlier, but you slept through my shower for once and I thought you could use more sleep." Her voice betrayed an odd hesitation, something like lying, but he didn't notice. He gasped quietly, surprised that he'd overslept. That _never _happened. Still, he felt better than he had in ages, like he could run a marathon, invent anything. She smiled sheepishly at his expression, perhaps mistaking it for irritation. "Don't worry," she told him hastily. "You've still got an hour to get ready for school. I wouldn't wake you up _that_ late."

He glance at his bedside clock. Actually, he had about fifteen minutes, since he had to get to school early today. Not that Candace could have known. Cursing under his breath, he quickly removed his pajamas and traded them out for his school uniform. He was slipping the shirt over his head as he ran/stumbled down the stairs, Candace following and seeming thoroughly confused.

"I've gotta get to school early today. In about ten minutes," he mumbled.

"What? Why?"

"A teacher wants to see me about a paper I turned in." That was a lie; he had to deliver his personally Doofensmirtz-approved excusal from the school he'd missed to avoid being publically (and painfully) humiliated. But she couldn't know that.

Still, her expression darkened with worry and something else, and he felt a brief stab of guilt. "I'll give you a ride."

"I was going to walk…" he trailed off as he hastily brushed his mop of red hair. "But considering the time, yeah, a ride would be good."

Candace hurried through the rest of her routine of a simple breakfast of bread and milk as he downed a cup of coffee. She normally disapproved of this, but offered no resistance as she ushered him hurriedly into her car. As she put the key in, a voice rang out from what was once the radio.

"Unscheduled Vehicle Use. Please provide an explanation."

Candace was already putting the car into drive so she'd be able to hurry once it was authorized. "Vehicle use required for immediate transportation." Under her breath, she swore and then added, "Compensation will be provided."

"Vehicle Use Authorized. Compensation has been removed from your account. Have a nice day." The car lurched immediately and they were off, Candace probably speeding but not seeming to care much. They were, after all, in a hurry, and Phineas grinned and stifled a laugh at her slightly maniacal, serious expression. That felt odd, too. He hadn't laughed in forever. Still, it felt nice.

"Here we are," she said with a grin, pulling to a stop in front of the school. She glanced at the dashboard clock. "And with three minutes to spare, too."

Phineas nodded thankfully at her as he got out. "Thanks Candace." He thought about telling her he loved her; he didn't.

"No problem. Now hurry up so you don't get punished for being late." She moved her hands in a "shoo-ing" movement, to which he smiled and walked into the school. At the door, she called out, hesitantly, "Phineas…be…be strong, okay?" He merely nodded, in a hurry, and rushed to the office. He pushed open the cool, heavy door and looked inside, eyes settling on the woman that sat behind the desk, her bright, curly red hair tied into a tight, severe ponytail. He breathed a sigh of relief; at least it wasn't Mrs. Bitters. She looked up from her paperwork at him, a wide smile blossoming on her face.

"Hi, Phineas, what can I do for you?" She was probably the only nice teacher at this hellish school, and he had a hunch that she worked hard at that.

"Hi, Miss Frizzle. I just need to turn in a pass for some school I missed yesterday." Her smile dissipated for just a moment before reaffirming itself on her face. She held out her hand and he dropped the card into it, waiting patiently while she scanned it through the computer and then typed busily away on the keyboard, expression scrunching up into animated irritation or confusion now and again.

"Well, Phineas, you're all clear," She said after a long while. He looked at the clock – it had taken nearly half an hour. She glanced at the card again, expression pained, before muttering, "Usually, I encourage kids to try new things, even if it means making mistakes. But, Phineas…" she lowered her voice further, leaning in to whisper to him, "Doofensmirtz is dangerous…you shouldn't associate with him if you can help it."

Phineas merely nodded in assent, because she was right. He was dangerous; he knew that all too well. And that was exactly why he _had_ to associate with him.

He heard her sigh in concern as he walked out the door and resisted to urge to turn around and explain it to her – explain everything. But he couldn't. As easy as confiding in a random teacher would be, if Doofensmirtz found out, she'd be "removed from the equation" before he could blink twice. Besides, what could she do to help him? There was nobody, it seemed, who could. Still, this couldn't dampen his mood for long. Yesterday had been nice, if a bit confusing, and even in its rush, the morning had offered him and Candace time to get even closer.

He walked through the hallways and settled into his seat for first hour, staring out the window. He was the first to arrive. Odd. Baljeet, at least, was usually here by now. He always came to school early.

As though on cue, Baljeet entered, head hung low to hide his eyes, shoulders slumped. Phineas was immediately alarmed. Baljeet, even now, still always found a certain amount of joy in school and learning; he never came to school without a smile. To see him like this…something awful must have happened.

Baljeet took his seat, shoulders shaking and breaths coming in short gasps.

"Bal…Baljeet?" Phinease said quietly.

Baljeet looked up, revealing tears coming down his face, sliding quickly down his cheeks and being replaced with fresh ones. "Y-yes, Phineas?"

"What's wrong?" he asked. Miss Finster glared at them but made no move to punish them. It was, technically, before school, but she still could have; luckily, while a bit crotchety, she was hardly sadistic. Baljeet lowered his voice to answer.

"You didn't…you didn't see?" Baljeet sounded pain and perhaps a little resentful.

"See what?"

Irving walked in, not sparing either a glance, but that would be because his eyes were glassy and red. He sat down mechanically, expression numb, eyes unfocused. He stared straight through the blackboard, unmoving, barely blinking. Something seemed stiff about his movements; unnatural.

"Before…school."

"I came early. What's going on?"

Others entered then, the bus had probably just arrived, but the only ones of real interest were Addyson, Milly, and Katie. Addyson was the most noticeable, loud sobs wracking her chest and making her convulse. As soon as she reached her desk, her face was buried in her hands, sobs not quieting. Her shoulders shook. The other girls were much the same, and while they weren't all sobbing, they were all clearly extremely distressed. Miss Finster didn't make any attempt to stop then, expression softening a mite.

"There was…" Baljeet trailed off, a fresh wave of tears overtaking him. Her managed to gasp out, "A…fire…"

Phineas' eyes widened. "Where? Baljeet, where?"

"…Isa…Isabella's house."

Phineas' world stopped in that instant. He felt sick and dizzy. The classroom was spinning around him and Baljeet's words were echoing in his head. His hands grabbed onto the desk as though to hold himself in place. No, no, no, no… It wasn't just a fire. No one would be weeping over a fire, the loss of a house. Tragic, sure, but not worth crying over. The fire had…

"She…they think she started it herself…her whole house…there was an ambulance there, but it was…" He stopped, shaking his head. He turned away from him to stare at his desk, tears no longer falling, teeth clenched, as other students filed in.

Phineas was barely aware of it. If he'd been capable of moving, he'd have ran from the room, broken something, hit someone, maybe. But he was rooted in his seat, unmoving. Unfeeling. His emotions and mind, it seemed, had shut down. He couldn't deal with this again. This was exactly what he'd been trying so hard to avoid – someone else he cared about disappearing. _Not disappeared, _dead_, you have to come to terms with it, she is _dead_. _ He shook his head rapidly, tears slipping down his cheeks as a million screams died in his throat before he could voice them.

_You're in shock,_ the analytical, rational part of his mind was kind enough to inform him.

_She's dead,_ the emotional side wailed.

_Calm down, breathe._

_Ferb is _dead_ and Perry is _dead _and Isabella is _dead_._

_In, out. Inhale, exhale. Calm down. You have to _breathe.

And breathe he did, in shuddering, desperate gasps. Baljeet glanced at him, concern clear through his reddened eyes, but Phineas didn't notice. He drifted through the day like a drunk. His best friend was dead. His best friend had, in all likelihood, committed suicide. His best friend was dead and the last words he'd said to her was to tell her that he didn't care about her at all. His best friend had died hating him and believing that he hated her, too. His best friend and his brother and his pet were all dead and any more could die at any second.

He ran to the bathroom at the end of the school day to be sick.

And that was where it occurred to him. Doofensmirtz had asked, just recently about her birthday. He had shown no lack of desire for carnage. Staging a fire would be just exactly like him; killing her would be just perfect. But why? What did he have to gain? He must have seen his and Candace's bonding session the night before, but that still wouldn't explain why he'd killed Isabella. Had he hoped that her death would close him off even more, would drive him back into unfeeling hiding, make him even more fearful then before?

Phineas clenched his teeth, his vision blurring through a haze of red. If that was what he'd thought, he had another thing coming.


End file.
